Page 25 of A Rose of Steel
“Michael ‘Bumper’ Hackett’s manner of death is probably homicide.” I wasn’t sure he knew who that was, but I had to give him the news.
I heard a long grunt come over the line. “Oh geez,” he said. “Don’t tell me there’s been another murder.”
“Sorry.”
“I thought he had an asthma attack?”
“You heard about it?”
“Yeah, Momma told me,” Pogue said. “One of her club members told her and ain’t no telling who told them.”
“Small town gossip train. That’s how we found out, too. Someone called Auntie. When we put him into that ambulance, we—at least I—thought he was going to be okay.”
“But just like gossip, they didn’t have it all right, huh? Wasn’t asthma that killed him?”
“Nope. I think he was poisoned.”
“Poisoned? Wow.” I heard him take in a breath. “What kind of poison?”
“I don’t know. He needs to be autopsied.”
“So then what makes you think that?” he asked.
“Because, his rescue inhaler would have helped him if it were asthma. Two days and a constant mist of albuterol should have done the trick.”
“Maybe he needed something more.”
“Like what?”
“Heck, I don’t know, Romie. You’re the doctor.”
“His asthma was being managed. In fact, his mother said that he hadn’t had an attack in a few years.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And get this. After touching him, Alex’s lips, nose and fingertips turned red and he became nauseous.”
“Who is Alex?”
Oh yeah. He didn’t know, although I was sure it wouldn’t be long before my Aunt Julep got wind of that little rumor mill tidbit as well and bring him up to date.
“Alex Hale,” I said. “The doctor from Chicago. Remember I told you about him.”
“Oh my,” he said, that obviously jogging his memory. “The would-be, almost-divorced man toy.”
“Shut it,” I said. “I never told you he was my man toy.”
Pogue chuckled. “So, he’s here? In Roble?”
“No. He did CPR from Chicago.”
“Oh that’s who did the CPR at the gazebo? I’d heard about that, but didn’t know who it was.”
“Obviously.”
“So where is he?’
“He was here, but he left.”
